


Crescendo

by kaerstyne



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: 5+1 Times, Chocolate Box Exchange 2020, F/M, Introspection, Kissing, Magic Ending (Umineko no Naku Koro ni), Melancholy, POV Ushiromiya Battler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22583635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaerstyne/pseuds/kaerstyne
Summary: Five times Battler doesn't kiss Beatrice, and one time he does.
Relationships: Beatrice the Golden Witch/Ushiromiya Battler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Crescendo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minium/gifts).



**1.**

The first time Battler wants to kiss Beatrice is when she has him naked and in chains.

He shouldn't want to—never mind what she's doing to him now, she kept _murdering his entire family_. And _laughing about it_. She's a terrible, cruel witch who seems to want nothing more than to watch him squirm beneath her as she destroys his world around him.

But... She is beautiful, has always been beautiful, ever since he first saw her portrait hanging in the mansion. He'd been mesmerized then, unable to tear his eyes away from her golden hair and soft features. (And of course her enormous breasts.) The real Beatrice looks exactly the same, except for her face, which had seemed so soft and delicate in the portrait but in reality is constantly twisted in cruel grins and manic laughter. (And her breasts are even bigger.) And, well. The loud, boisterous girls had always gotten him more fired up than the shy, quiet ones. He prefers someone who can keep up with his own ridiculous style and match it, overblown nonsense for overblown nonsense.

So she's his type. He can't deny that, and if he'd first seen her at school he probably would have asked her out immediately. But this isn't school, and he would never even consider dating someone who'd done all the things to him that she had.

Still, though. Sometimes, when the light catches her at a certain angle or she tilts her head just so, he can see the gentle, mysterious woman from the portrait, and it draws him in. He wants to take her in his arms and kiss her, like a knight returning to his lady.

Of course, the feeling only lasts about three seconds before she cackles and shoves her heel into his back, and then he remembers she's the worst person he's ever met and doesn't deserve anything from him other than a stake through the heart.

  


* * *

  


**2.**

The next two games aren't _fun_ , because watching his family be murdered still isn't his idea of a good time, but they're less agonizing than the games before. He's getting the hang out how the red and blue truths work, which puts him on firmer footing, and he's starting to feel like maybe he can take on this witch on her own terms. It's more like an actual game, and less like a one-sided slaughter.

And in his fight to improve his position on the game board, he forgets all about wanting to kiss her.

But everything comes crashing down when he finds himself standing in the rain staring up at Beatrice as she demands he apologize for his sin, and he has no idea what the fuck she's talking about.

He racks his brain trying to think what he could possibly have done that would have led to this nonsensical repeating massacre, but there's nothing. You'd think if he'd really done something that significant, he would remember it, but nothing comes to mind at all. And he's certainly never done anything to Beatrice specifically; he's never seen her before in his life, and even she admits he couldn't have done anything to her six years ago!

So why? Why does she look at him like that, like he's done something to hurt her personally? She wears a strange, blank expression during the whole conversation, one that doesn't suit her cackling witch persona at all. She just looks tired, and sad, and when she drops her umbrella and the rain soaks her face he would swear for a second that she's crying.

That's when the desire to kiss her comes rushing back, slamming into him so quickly it almost takes his breath away. He's never known what to do around crying girls, especially ones like Beatrice where he'd never in a million years even imagined they _could_ cry. His masculine instincts scream at him that he needs to fix it, somehow, and if he actually were dating her he would have pulled her close, kissed the raindrops from her face, and vowed to repent for whatever he'd done wrong.

But they aren't dating, this isn't a TV drama, and he refuses to let her push responsibility for her crimes onto him when he hasn't _done_ anything.

  


* * *

  


**3.**

Of course, as he realizes eventually, that's the whole problem: he hadn't done anything. He should have, and he hadn't, and by the time he even remembered his mistake, Beatrice was dead.

The newly "hatched" version of her isn't the same; she isn't his Beatrice, the glorious, irreverent witch he'd sparred with. She's just a bizarre ghost come back to haunt him, to rub his failures in his face every time he sees her, and he wants nothing to do with her.

But the woman who spectacularly crashes that farce of a wedding ceremony is no ghost, and after it's over, as the two of them lower the gun of truth they'd pointed at Erika, he can't help but stare at her. She's beautiful and radiant, and more importantly, she knows everything he's done, and she still came to rescue his sorry ass from his own stupidity. She's the same arrogant witch he'd loved to go toe-to-toe with, even when he wouldn't admit it, except now she's on his side.

And now they both understand what it cost them to reach this point, and that makes it all the sweeter.

He almost does kiss her then. He leans forward, intending to touch her face, but one of the other witches calls out to her, and the moment is lost as she turns away from him to reply. _Later_ , he thinks. _After we've tied up all the loose ends on this game board._

  


* * *

  


**4.**

It's only right, to hold a funeral for her.

He would have rather done it right after she'd died, but, well. If he'd known enough to hold a proper funeral for her then, she wouldn't have died in the first place. It's his own fault that she's gone, and that she went before he understood what she was trying to tell him. The story and the funeral are the least he can do to try to make up for it, to show respect for what she started.

At first he'd thought the new Beatrice was exactly the same, a sort of reincarnation, and that she could fit right into the empty space the original had left behind. But no—she's the same in the broad strokes, all the most important parts, but there are dozens of tiny differences he can't help noticing. Individually they're nothing—the angle she tilts her head, the exact pitch of her laugh—but together they add up to a dark shape in his heart, one that sometimes rises to the front and makes him remember what she once was.

He would never mention it to her, of course. It's his fault, not hers, and she's already done the impossible making herself as similar as she is, just to make him happy. He's not going to cheapen that by pointing out slight imperfections.

He looks down at Beatrice's body one last time, runs his fingertips across the book he left with her. He thinks about leaning down to kiss her forehead, but honestly he isn't sure if she would appreciate it, if he'd really earned the right. The story is enough. She should be able to understand what he wants to say from that alone. He can work out with the new Beatrice what their relationship is now, but he shouldn't make assumptions about what the original would want from him. He's made too many assumptions about her already.

  


* * *

  


**5.**

In the end she's the one who kisses him first, on a boat in the middle of the ocean. For the first few milliseconds he feels almost cheated—he'd had a whole plan for how he was going to do this, once they were off the island! It was a good plan!

Then he's very quickly distracted by the fact that Beatrice is kissing him, and that it's extremely pleasant and he doesn't want it to ever stop. Even after it does stop, all too soon, the taste of her lips lingers on his, and he has to resist the urge to lick them. He's pretty sure she notices, and that she kisses his earlobe next just to screw with him.

She's gone when he opens his eyes, and he plunges himself into the water so quickly he doesn't even have time to register it as a conscious thought. _You idiot_ , he tries to yell as he dives after her, bubbles streaming from his mouth. He knows why she's doing it, but he doesn't think it's what she really wants, and it's certainly not what _he_ wants. He's not about to lose her again, after everything he went through to get her in the first place.

He manages to grab her hand, uses it to pull himself closer to her. And he stays there, hugging their bodies together, even as the darkness tries to pull them apart. _You think I'd let you get away?_ he whispers into her ear. _You're my golden witch._

She makes a choked noise against his chest, so he holds her tighter, refusing to let go. He lowers his head to brush his lips across her cheek, and just as his mouth is about to meet hers, the abyss swallows them both whole.

  


* * *

  


**+1**

It takes him far longer than he intended to reach the Golden Land again, and he doesn't see Beatrice when he arrives. The others don't outright _say_ she's sulking, but he knows her, and if she's not off in her room sulking he'll eat his fancy sorcerer cape. So he heads there as soon as he's done greeting the others, with only one brief stop on the way, and he knocks on her door.

There's no response, so he knocks again, harder this time. "Come on, Beato, I know you're in there."

After another minute the door finally opens, and Beatrice glares out at him, arms crossed over her chest. "You're _late_."

"I know, I know. Sorry about that, I really didn't mean to take so long."

"Stupid Battler," she grumbles, not meeting his eyes. "You're always making me wait."

"I know." He reaches out and gently wraps an arm around her waist, and she doesn't flinch away. "But I'm here now, and I promise I won't make you wait ever again."

"Yeah?" She looks up at him, her eyes fierce and challenging enough you could almost overlook the fact that they're misty with tears. "You mean it this time?"

"Absolutely." He brings his other arm out from behind his back and holds up the rose he brought from the garden, letting magic flow from his fingers to gradually turn the petals a shining gold. "After everything we did to get here? I'm never letting go of you again. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."

She lets out a scoff that quickly turns into a laugh, and takes the rose from him, smiling. "You'd better make it worth my while."

"Oh, I will." He touches her chin with his newly-freed hand, tilting her face upward, and leans down to _finally_ press his lips against hers.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him back, just as intense as when she shouted at him across the game board, and the rose she still clutches in her hand keeps shining with a bright, golden light.


End file.
